


Sweet Pleas and Thoughtful Whispers

by KuVhalla



Series: Tassel [3]
Category: The Dark Crystal (1982), The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: Begging, Blood, Cunnilingus, Dry Humping, F/M, Fingerfucking, Manipulation, Menstrual Sex, Menstruation, NSFW, Other, Poisoning, Reader Insert, Smut, Teasing, This time SkekSil gets to top, Vaginal Fingering, canon short skeksis, he's a big ass bastard as usual but he's kinda cracking too, he's the biggest tease too, sweet Sil if you dare call him that, there's a lot of plot again, this is long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:20:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27671258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuVhalla/pseuds/KuVhalla
Summary: You hate being on your period. It's painful, you're cramping, and the skeksis in the castle seem to think you're in heat of all things.The Emperor, of course, will use that to his advantage, and you get a promotion.The Chamberlain gets possesive, not liking how much attention you're receiving.
Relationships: skekSil (Dark Crystal)/Reader
Series: Tassel [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2008813
Comments: 10
Kudos: 25





	Sweet Pleas and Thoughtful Whispers

**Author's Note:**

> This happens a short time after the last part of the series, though I don't think you need to read it to understand it. Again, there's a lot of porn but also a lot of plot for some reason.  
> I hope you guys like my protrayal of SkekSo and SkekSil this time -I'm trying to soften him up without being too obvious or making him ooc.

You woke up in pain; a different pain than the one you were used to as of late, but pain nonetheless, deep and piercing as if someone were twisting a blade inside your body. You let out a groan and curled in on yourself, amassing the thick comforter to your body as you did. There was a shift at your back, a surprised, alarmed sniff, and thin fingers searched your arm, trying to turn you that way.

“Chamberlain smells blood,” the skeksis said, and when you stubbornly wouldn’t bulge, his smaller figure rose up and perched over your body with little shame or ceremony. SkekSil brushed aside the locks of hair covering your face, the pads of his fingers dabbing over your still-healing, mauled ear to inspect it. He made a humming sound. “Festering, but no blood… Where, where is it?”

“Not from there,” you grunted, but obliged him in his efforts and strenuously righted yourself up. The Chamberlain skimmed over your face, checking the cuts on your chin, then weaved through your hair to see the ones in your scalp. As you had told him, he found nothing, just the bumps of scarring tissue and tender flesh the Ritual Master had put there an unum ago. You batted his hands away, rubbing your face tiredly. “It’s quite alright, my Lord. I’ll go wash myself.”

You headed towards the side chamber in his quarters, holding your lower abdomen as you went, and grumbling to yourself –you had a mighty craving for sweets and yet your stomach was very upset, damned be the contradiction. As you had suspected, it was nothing out of the ordinary, just your period; you cleaned yourself and fished for some rags you had salvaged from the kitchen many unum ago –in truth, you had shamelessly stolen them from the Gourmand after one petty encounter with him where you were unfairly yelled at, and to this day you were still unapologetic about the scolding he had got from the Emperor for misplacing _valuable_ castle inventory. You also knew full well the Emperor had seen them in your possession, as you had nowhere to hide them other than your closed fists, but he had chosen to ignore it in favour of unjustified public humiliation –it helped build character, he had laughed.

When you exited the chamber, skin clammy and feeling as sick as when you had entered, the Chamberlain was already dressed, his intelligent green eyes fixed on you like a hawk preys on a mouse; he stood very close to the door you had just crossed, startling you with his sudden proximity, his bony hands peacefully intertwined in front of his chest as he often had them, portraying the neatest picture of innocence. His scrutiny was heavy and watchful, and you expected an interrogation, but SkekSil surprised you one last time, presenting the vial of healing oil the Scientist had given you. “Human forgot her medicine. Back to bed, sit; Chamberlain will apply the ointment this time.”

You obeyed docilly, sinking back on the feathery mattress so it would be easier for him to treat you, your hands still firmly holding your lower abdomen –you were so lucky you weren’t seriously cramping up and it was just the usual discomfort. The Chamberlain made a keen sound, not missing one of your movements.

Something you had noticed, probably because he made no effort to hide it, was how fascinated SkekSil was with you hair; he didn’t know how to braid it, nor showed any indication about wanting to learn, but he thoroughly savoured gliding his fingers through it, with no other purpose than to feel the locks. You let the Chamberlain enjoy himself, the brushing and light touch of his hands somehow relaxing. Then, he reached down to your chin and encouraged twisting your head, getting a better look at your ear and finally rubbing, with a delicacy you were unaware he had, the salve on your scarring skin.

“Better now, yes?” the skeksis hummed, highly satisfied with himself, and neatly cleaned his claws of any leftover residue with a handkerchief. “We must dwell no longer, Emperor awaits.”

You nodded, accompanying him to the door, and watched the Chamberlain make his way to the great dining halls where skeksis broke their fast before turning and going towards the kitchens, where yow own morning meal waited.

* * *

It was not often that the Emperor requested a private audience with you –in fact it had never happened, and it could hardly be called an audience either when he had commanded you to linger while his skeksis subjects spilled through the door after the court session had concluded, chattering in loud voices about their following intentions.

SkekSo called you forward before him, and you obeyed with haste, kneeling respectfully as close as you considered appropriate, head bowed and eyes casted away.

“Come hither, human.” The Emperor had never hesitated to name you with your race, as he did with the rest of creatures that dwelled Thra –gelfling, podling… too innocuous, to fleeting to bother remembering anything else. It was hard to blame a creature so old you couldn’t fathom it for their own imperfections, and _human_ was not the worst a skeksis had called you during your stay in the castle, so you didn’t hold it against him.

It was not until you were capable to rest your head on his own knees if you leaned forward that the Emperor considered you had followed his command appropriately, and from your position you could appreciate every thread and delicate embroidery on his clothes, every quiet whisper the brushing of the fabric made when he shifted and breathed. A four-fingered hand heavy with rings rested atop your head for a moment, and you couldn’t help your flinch; it was true that no Lord of the Crystal other than the Ritual Master had ever harmed you physically, the worst of their fury being the damage their indignant shrieks did to your ears, but then again, you didn’t know a thing about the Emperor. Based on the little information you had about it, he could be capable of snapping your spine with a flick of his wrist.

SkekSo did no such thing but tugged at your hair instead, a rumble resounding in his throat. You lifted you head, and then he tugged again to expose your mauled ear to his sight, much like the Chamberlain had done that morning but missing all of SkekSil’s sweetness –you had never seen the Emperor ever touch anyone other than for pernicious purposes, and you suspected he just lacked the knowledge of how to do so in a benign manner. His talons on your flesh, however, where not rough as he prodded at the healing wound, a low sound coming from his chest as he cautiously inspected it.

“This was… an excessive incident. I thought I smelled blood and you weren’t healing well, but this hardly looks like it,” he told you, somewhat reproachful, as if you had lied to him. “There’s no infection to be seen. Is it your cyclical bleeding the reason for that scent, am I to assume?”

You didn’t know if to go pale or red, and shrank on yourself, shoulders hunched, as your face heated up. Whether it was allowed or not, you asked him an alarmed question. “You can smell it, my Lord?”

“We all can,” the Emperor laughed, “every unum you come to this court, the scent trailing behind you, how could we not notice! And yet there’s no sign of it on the floor or wetting your robes, and it’s not the only taste you bring with yourself… A heat, like the wild beasts of this land; of course, your race would be subjected to such animal condition.”

You blushed further, embarrassed. The Emperor talked freely as if unbothered by the matter, his deep voice steady and full of mirth, but you cringed inwardly despite his apparent good humour; why would have brought it up if not to scold you? “… I can bathe, my Lord, to hide the smell if it troubles the Lords of the Crystal.”

The Emperor’s blue eyes roamed over your hunched form, his fingers still tangled in your hair mindlessly, subconsciously petting you, and he took a moment to answer: “That won’t be necessary, a bit of blood never bothered anyone, and it does good for my court to smell so threateningly from time to time; it keeps insidious _thoughts_ at bay. I’m positive gelfling do take it into consideration when they enter this room and see you.”

SkekSo’s talons left you head to tap lightly at his beak, and you realized you had been holding your breath, and let it go; when you took it once again, it carried the ruler’s own perfume, much more subtle and natural to what you were used being around the Chamberlain and those who favoured his company: there was the metal of his jewels, mainly, and under it you could perceive a soft scent, as if the memory of a rich perfume which had long faded.

You were at loss of words when faced to his silent judgement, and remained were you were, not daring to raise your head; there was a saying in the castle that spoke of the Emperor’s great forgiveness, and about how little mercy he had in exchange for that virtue, and the last thing you wanted was to provoke him –you didn’t know where that fear of him had come from to haunt you, as SkekSo had always treated you as he was supposed to, according to your station. Still, you couldn’t help yourself, blood running cold in your veins, as you heard the ruler hum in thought, his stare like lasers boring in your very core.

“May I service you if you have the need, my Lord?” you asked, if only to break the silence.

“…That won’t be necessary, no,” the Emperor said eventually, silkily. Then, he snapped his fingers, a new energy in his voice as if he had had the best idea in years. “From this point forward, you shan’t kneel behind the throne, but at my feet, where everyone will be able to see you, and what you represent, is that understood?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“You may take your leave now.”

* * *

You had greeted the Chamberlain as you entered his private, empty halls –how odd of him to not be entertaining someone, considering there were still a few hours of daylight left and much mischief to conduct–, nibbling on a sweet bread you had subtracted from the kitchens, your cravings for sugar finally too great to resist.

“Hungry at this hour,” the Chamberlain pointed, his beak curling mockingly. “Dinner hours is hardly upon us this early in the day.”

“I was feeling peckish, my Lord,” you shrugged with a half-assed bow, still feeling as if a horde of landstriders had stomped you to the ground with how your muscles ached, and it would progressively get worse, it always did for you as the night approached, for some reason. Having that in mind, your only want was to lie down and not move for nothing until the Three Sisters were up in the sky the next day, dinner be damned. “Tired, too.”

You ate your snack, retired to the side chamber to change and wash the rags you had used for the day and don some clean ones, and wishfully curled yourself on your pile of blankets, cuddling as many as you could to your chest, eyes closed and hoping for a well-deserved rest after the exhausting weeks you had gone through-

The was the rustle of fabric in motion and then a shadow materialised behind your closed eyelids, a reptilian tail lazily brushing against your legs to get your attention. You peeked one eye open and then rose to seat among your pillows, knowing you just couldn’t ignore the Chamberlain when he wanted something –not only because it was disrespectful, but because it was also foolish to irk one of the most dangerous individuals in the castle, no matter how courteous your relationship with him was. SkekSil stood there, as pleasant-looking as he always was, his vulture-like head at a slight angle, a curious and sharp smile gracing his many fangs.

He motioned you to the bed and you sat at the edge of the mattress as you had done in the morning, thinking the day was getting surprisingly repetitive. The Chamberlain sniffed the air and let out an all-knowing whimper. “Frequenting the Emperor’s company today, yes? Very close company, too. Human has caught Emperor’s eye, perhaps?”

You remembered the conversation you had with the ruler and suddenly were very uncomfortable; you hadn’t thought it a big deal, as the Emperor often commanded you to do things in public, but if SkekSil was bringing it up it was because of the event’s significance. You quietly told the Chamberlain of the Emperor’s request to have you sitting by his feet, your stomach churning with unease. “I believed he wanted to show me more submissive to the court, my Lord.”

What the Chamberlain knew, however, was that SkekSo was taking advantage of your cycle as a bait and a trap for the rest of the Lords, as they would be too distracted by your scent to pay proper, complete attention to whatever he said –the Emperor was planning something big and he wanted as few detractors as he could get, even among his allies. Whatever it would be, the Chamberlain still didn’t know, but he had high hopes in taking part of it now that he had discovered how many precautions the Emperor was taking.

“Good things are to come,” the Chamberlain said, more to himself than to continue the conversation, unmistakable mirth in his voice. “Emperor is very smart, using you, yes. One has to be, to see all the opportunities ahead.”

You were still brooding, twisting and making your finger joints snap out of nervousness. Sensing you wanted to say something more, the Chamberlain encouraged you with a gesture of his hand, never wanting to let any kind of information go if he could have it. You still hesitated, and it picked the skeksis’ interest immediately, as you hardly ever seemed to vacillate around him. “…does it bother you, my Lord? My smell. The Emperor brought it up today, said it is strong.”

“It _is_ noticeable for Lords, but it doesn’t bother SkekSil. Alluring, like the call of a pretty bohrtog,” he took his chance to reach for your hair, and twiddled it between his long claws idly, then smiled at you with great amusement, his long wet tongue darting out to lick at his fangs, “neither does blood bother skeksis. But Chamberlain is not a brainless beast incapable of restrain, yes? Emperor uses your scent for his benefit, to distract his brethren. Human’s heat is a strong weapon, like water for those who thirst. Chamberlain counts himself very lucky for human’s company, very lucky indeed.”

You leaned in the caress of his fingers over your face, more concentrated in his words than his actions –the Chamberlain had the tendency of sharing more than he normally would when indulged in his little quirks, and you certainly didn’t mind the affection, soft touches were scarce since you had arrived on Thra. “Why now, however? I’ve been in the castle for many unum now, he had plenty of chances to use… that.”

“You were just toy before,” the Chamberlain laughed, “an oddity one can look at –now, you are interesting. Before, only Chamberlain cared for you, others were entertained by human strolling around, yes, but even podlings are something to look at when there is little to do. Then, Ritual Master pays you attention, now so does Emperor…” SkekSil’s hand slipped under your robes, sliding a finger featherily to trace your hidden collarbones. Your skin rose in goosebumps in answer to the light contact. “You are marked, and marks are important for skeksis. Others will be curious, will get distracted, charmed as Chamberlain was in the beginning. Smart Emperor will use that to his advantage.”

You could tell SkekSil knew you were getting aroused, cursed were your agitated hormones, and he prodded at you a bit more, clicking his tongue when you dared lift your hands from the mattress to return the touch; greatly satisfied at your obedience, he fisted your hair and guided it back to expose you neck, and then used his tongue to lick a long, hot line from the edge of your robes to your jaw, tearing a surprised gasp out of you. Then, impassive, the Chamberlain tore himself from you as you squirmed and whined at the loss.

“Don’t give that look,” SkekSil lamented with mocked pity, stroking your face, and then pushed you backwards on the mattress. He openly laughed at your eager expression, thin hands spreading your thighs to settle in between. Taking in a whiff of air to scent you, as he had been doing since you had entered the rooms, the Chamberlain gave you a few smug pats and walked to the doors of the chambers, almost sauntering giddily at catching of off-guard; “it is time to dine for the Lords, Chamberlain must be on his way. Human be good and rest, SkekSil will be back.”

As the Chamberlain left, you seriously considered masturbating all over his pillow just to make him pay for his teasing, but then again the cons outnumbered the pros –he was a mastermind at revenge, and it could only end badly for you, regardless of how great your instant gratification might be –oh, and it would had been great, boiling from the inside as you were.

Instead, you huffed, slapped your face lightly to disperse the warmth concentrated there and buried yourself in the blankets of the bed, thoroughly pissed off.

* * *

When the Chamberlain returned, even half asleep you could tell he was tipsy, his humming not his usual whimper but an actual tune the musician podlings at the throne room’s niche often sang to themselves when nobody was in the hall. Under the last rays of the last fading Sister you saw him disrobe, shedding the many layers with practiced ease, his good mood given away by the goofy wiggling of his tail.

“Emperor scolded General today, put the brute in his place,” the Chamberlain giggled, either noticing you were awake or not caring if you weren’t. “SkekVar drank too much, the fool, and started criticising human, useful human who looms behind Emperor! He’s siding with Ritual Master, Chamberlain knows! Now he pays, they will both pay! Oh, tomorrow, when they see you sitting at Emperor’s feet! Oh, oh! It will be good, but SkekSil must not laugh!”

You huffed in amusement at how silly the Chamberlain looked snickering to himself, even if what he was talking about was the decimating and public humiliation of his two biggest political rivals. By the tone of his voice, you could tell the reason behind the General’s drunkenness was probably his doing, as you had caught him testing SkekVar’s patience often, most of the time taunting him wordlessly, just with a gesture of hands, a slyly risen brow or a goading smile.

The Chamberlain donned on his nightrobes, hardly caring about nakedness after that romp you two had shared long ago –had it been that long, really? Why had neither of you demanded an encore by now, you wondered– and instead of circling the bed to go to what was now known as his side, he stood in front of your covered form and sniffed the air, palming your body lewdly over the blankets.

His voice was unexpectedly filled with hissing outrage. “Still smelling like Emperor! Sleeps in Chamberlain’s bed but his stench has withered none… That cannot be.” He tapped your cheek to rouse you, “human disrobes, yes? Up, up, disrobe for Chamberlain.”

You squinted at him, less amused and more miffed at his antics. “What-? It’s the middle of the night, my Lord. And I’m on my cycle, I need to wear underwear, or the mattress will get stained-”

The Chamberlain waved dismissively at your worries, tugging insistently at your nightclothes the same way a child with a mischievous idea would. “Keep undergarments on, that is of no matter. Quickly now, Chamberlain is freezing!”

“But-!”

“Please? Chamberlain is asking so nicely, _please_?”

You groaned, reluctantly got out of the blankets and followed his annoying demands; when you turned, his own nightclothes were abandoned on the floor in the shape of a wrinkly heap, and he had already got under the covers, keeping the blankets up and urging you back to the bed.

As you did, what the Chamberlain was planning became clear; just when you comfortably settled down, he scuttled over –you opened your eyes in wide surprise, as it was an unspoken rule that each of you had your own space on the bed and should keep to it– and pressed his sharp face on your chest, forehead flat on your sternum as he nestled his face between your breasts, nuzzling against your warm skin with great pleasure. All too soon, with a swift manoeuvring you didn’t know he was capable of, the Chamberlain had cuddled his smaller form into your embrace, his legs tucked around your hips and his tail wrapped around your calves; he was purring so strongly you felt it in your own chest, like a big cat. The enthusiastic, deep sound only intensified when you slithered one arm under the pillows to avoid getting it squashed and draped the other over him, dodging his lax quills only so he could grab it with his vestigial arms, holding it to his back.

Suddenly and without a say in it, you had been turned into a big spoon, tricked by your leniency into an intimate hold as you would have never imagined yourself in, not with a skeksis of all creatures. You could clearly feel the Chamberlain’s cold, hard skin greedily absorbing your body heat, and if there was any part of him not in contact with you he efficiently remedied it, snuggling so close you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your torso with perfect clarity.

* * *

You were sure if they had fit your bigger frame, the Chamberlain would have insisted you wore one of his inner robes under your clothing; however, SkekSil had rubbed himself on you as much as he was able, to the point where the motion woke you up –you had believed he was humping you at first, then thought his actions innocent for a moment, then you realised he was imprinting his scent all over you, or the smell of your heat on himself, or something equally disturbing to that. You were given a couple of laps on the naked skin of your neck and then a teasing nibble on your shoulder before being allowed to go to the side chamber to change your makeshift pads and to get dressed. Once you exited, the Chamberlain was back to his usual playfully distant demeanour, his formal robes in their rightful place, and he assisted you with applying the oils on your wounded ear before heading out to get your respective breakfasts.

You had to wait for the Ceremony of the Sun to finish –the skeksis nourished first their bodies, then their spirits through the Crystal of Truth, had once told you the Ritual Master, trying to explain why they had such a secret meeting on a daily basis, carrying such odd shafts–, before lingering outside the door of the throne room, waiting to be called in by the Emperor to become his shadow.

Today, as you had been commanded the previous day, you walked in the room and knelt before the Emperor, feeling all the piercing, attentive stares you were getting from the Lords, until he gestured you to place yourself at his feet, at his right side; you were between SkekSo and the Chamberlain, and had a clear visual of the Ritual Master’s and the General’s poisonous glares, at the Emperor’s other side. On your own right, while you couldn’t look at him without being too obvious, you heard the Chamberlain’s presumptuous, smug whimper, the jewels on his clothes jingling as he pleasantly held his hands in front of him; without a doubt, you knew he was looking at SkekVar and SkekZok, taking in and mocking their displeased expressions.

Whatever reports were to be given proceeded, either by the Lords of the Crystal themselves or by random gelfling trickling inside the room, tiny and alone, but you were haunted by other matters, very different in nature. The Emperor, despite your worries, didn’t make a move to show he noticed the scent on you other than a sharp, judgemental glare towards the Chamberlain, one which SkekSil answered with a sheepish bow and a tiny, bashful smile.

It was when the Vapran emissary came into the throne room that the Emperor made his first move on you, resting his hand on your head as he had done the day before, petting your hair and sliding the locks through his finger with great care, not as uneased with the foreign strands as he had once been. The Chamberlain shifted at your side when he saw what the Emperor was doing, his heavy robes hissing softly with the movement, but he said nothing, more entertained with the hard look the white and blue dressed gelfling was giving you, their lips curled in visible but gracious dissatisfaction.

SkekSo himself was also eyeing the tiny creature warily, somewhat smugly, as if daring them to raise their voice and share their thoughts out loud. No doubt, the Vapran wished to hiss their deprecation towards your alien form –a thing Vapran did every few unum, as politely as they could manage, since the All-Maudra had discovered you. Perhaps, the Emperor wondered amusedly, the castle in Ha’rar was rumbling with the rumours of the several Vapran gelfling who had belonged to the Ritual Master’s now dead harem. Lost lives, gelfling called them, but SkekSo would never use such endearing terms for lowly creatures as gelfling were.

A stroke of his hand and another whiff of your heat rose to meet his beak, and the Emperor mercilessly strangled a purr deep in his chest. There were two things he held true: that his brethren were salivating to get their claws on you, minds clouded with lust, and that they would never do so, no matter how lascivious their want became. Only the Chamberlain –of course it would be SkekSil, out of all of them, _why not_ – dared to mock such frivolous impulses by bathing himself in your enticing scent, a provocation so high it actually diminished its own importance. Now that the Chamberlain had made such an obvious claim over something so lowly –namely you–, who would dare call him out of it, revealing their own desire to have you? It would be humiliating to do so, only SkekSo was free of such judgements because he was the Emperor and, in the end, he could do whatever he wanted, be it destroy a podling village to sate his bloodlust or to have you as a beast to pet however he saw fit. 

The Emperor’s only regret –as truly as he could feel such emotion– was that he had unknowingly given you to the Chamberlain himself, as the value you held for him back when you arrived on Thra was less than zero. If he wanted to, he could easily reclaim you from SkekSil’s sick claws, but it would do his reputation no good to show open want over a minion, a symbol of his power and the control he held over all creatures whether they belonged to Thra or not…

Needless to say, as _alluring_ as you seemed to him right now, he had little to no desire to snog you. The Emperor, who made sure he always got whatever his little, black heart wanted, knew better than to fall for something as insignificant as luxuria.

In the end, the beautifully dressed Vapran gelfling left the room without voicing their concerns, as it was meant to be.

* * *

You were so horny you were practically crawling up the walls. It was maddening how fucking _petty_ the Chamberlain could be!

You sat by the Emperor’s feet for hours to come, hearing all of Thra make their demands –in truth, is was only a selected few those who were allowed near the ruler, but their hearings were packed with endless complains and requests, all of them insufferably adorned with a language so polished and spiralling it made your head pound.

Come the night, with all Three Sisters gone beyond the horizon, when you were craving a moment of privacy and waited for the Chamberlain to get to his private quarters so you could jump him, you discovered he was pissed off with you. While he explained not why he was upset at you, his tone dangling at the edge between playfulness and mockery as it usually was, he swatted your hand and your longing, heated stares away with little care, dismissing your advances as if you were nothing but a podling.

For a whole month you had tried either to seek him for a romp or some heavy petting or to find the privacy to touch and relieve yourself, but the Chamberlain always seemed to know what you were doing, and he teased and denied you with great pleasure obvious in his green, sharp eyes. You wouldn’t have minded satisfying your own needs if he was in the room with you, or maybe a door away if he was baiting you, but somehow sensing you lack of shame, SkekSil decided to entertain as often as possible as many skeksis as he could in the hall adjacent to his quarters, which left you with little options. Neither of you wanted them to catch you in his rooms –the _scandal_ –, as the Emperor would have a bigoted but solid testimony to cast you away to the kitchens or relocate you in a different room of your own, and you were now too used to his company to desire a lonesome sleep. Of course, with the halls filled with skeksis and their punctilious senses of smell, you couldn’t masturbate either, for the scent of your arousal would only give you away. 

But you were going crazy, Thra! As you had him in bed, at last alone, it didn’t matter how sensually you caressed your skin, beckoning for him, for the Chamberlain’s will of steel wouldn’t bulge; you begged him to touch you, and then tried to touch yourself when he refused, but SkekSil smacked at your hands, tutting like a disappointed, very entertained parent.

“Human is shameless, no shame!” he scolded you mockingly, “touching herself in front of a Lord of the Crystal, drowning in lust like a wild beast. No, no, it cannot be! Show restrain, patience is always rewarded.”

You sobbed at him, curling on the pillow, face warm and red with frustration and arousal alike. You pressed and rubbed your thighs together in search for some release, but you found none, your fingers clawing at the sheets –you always seemed to forget you could easily overpower him if you got physical with the smaller skeksis, but the Chamberlain knew when you were at your weakest, and which buttons to press to tease you to the point of tears, where your mind cared for nothing else if it was not something to extinguish your need. “Please, _please_ , my Lord, please! Just-!”

The Chamberlain was always so sweet in those moments. Ignoring your humping hips effortlessly despite the hunger in his eyes, he cooed at you, caressed you face, brushed the hair from your sweaty face, only ever raising his voice when you resisted too much, refusing to give up to his soft manipulation in favour for your own needs –those times, SkekSil was fearless to use rougher methods, pining your chest to the pillows beneath with your neck between his jaws, both trying to soothe you with his purring and further lighting your desire with the laps of his tongue. No matter if you used the position to thrust against his body, no matter how many times you felt the bulge of his cocks through your clothing, warm and throbbing against your ass, the Chamberlain _never_ ceded.

You were so visibly desperate for _anything_ even the reclusive Scientist gave you a look of wonder when you went in the Chamber of Life for another vial of healing ointment for your ear.

“By the Crystal!” SkekTek huffed, startled and annoyed at your stomping, “what is wrong with you?”

You grabbed the vial from his flimsy hands and shoved it inside your robes, almost growling at the skeksis for his unrequested sass. In all honesty, you were seething, but even then you didn’t want to abuse or yell at the often-bullied Scientist. What you wanted to do was to strangle the Chamberlain, or to ride him, or both. You wanted that very, very much.

“His lordship the Emperor is pressuring me lately, that’s all” you snarled instead, inwardly cringing at how the Scientist took a cautious step back from you. “I will tell the Lord Emperor about your assistance with the supply of these, my Lord,” you corrected yourself, patting at the hidden vial, “he himself has recognized my fast recovery thanks to your concoctions. I am deeply grateful for them as well.”

The cunning Scientist saw an attempt to make peace whenever he was presented one –they were few and far in between in a castle full of belligerent creatures–, and puffed up at your praise, unused to the acknowledgement of his particular skills. The truth was, due to his loneliness, SkekTek was the easiest skeksis to butter up. “Of course, of course! You go do that, you feeble creature. Who knows what would have been of you had I not intervened to preserve as much as your wounded flesh as I had!”

“All the compliments I might be able to come up with would never suffice, my Lord, for my debt to you is great.”

“Yes! It is! I shall collect that debt in due time too, you weakling.”

“I don’t doubt you will, my Lord, when the time is right.”

In all honesty, it was obvious the Scientist was to scared of both you and the Chamberlain –who would be, technicalities applied, the one who had a debt with him, as you were under his charge– to ever claim what he was owed. However, some truths were better left unsaid, and when you left the Chamber of Life, the Scientist’s voice was still echoing in the hallways, his cackles mixing with the cries of the beasts he had caged.

* * *

Your period was back, and you were feeling like shit, curled up under the blankets groaning to yourself with every slight movement you involuntarily made. You were in so much pain, and so aroused, your head fogged… it was ridiculous! You hadn’t had those problems where you had first arrived on Thra, many, many months ago! Was it the weather, the food? You wanted to justify it with how busy you had been then, too preoccupied with the new world around you and the many protocols you had to learn to properly function in court, to notice if you had been having such a hard time. Your cycles were always painful, the intensity wavering from day to day until the very last one, but you wanted to blame the Chamberlain for your punishing libido: before you had got frisky with him, you had always found a few minutes for personal time between activities to satisfy yourself, but now, as it was SkekSil who was always meddling in your private time, you hadn’t been able to masturbate in so long it was laughable. 

Why did you listen to him, again? You just needed to take the edge off, that would do it… Were his threats so serious that you couldn’t risk a tiny bit of relief? Deep down, you knew they were, you knew you really shouldn’t disobey this unfair impulse of his to punish you for something you were not responsible of, but it was just so difficult to heed reason when your were burning from the inside and your skin crawled alive with desire.

The mattress shifted and another biting cramp attacked you, chasing your lust away mercilessly; you curled in on yourself further, your knees touching your chin, and whimpered pathetically. The Chamberlain peeked his beak over your shoulder to see what was the matter with you, hand by your bicep to turn you so you would look at him, but you tensed again and refused, whining, your eyelids tightly pressed as you tried to somehow relax your clenched muscles.

SkekSil placed his palm on your forehead, his own eyes squinted in thought, no doubt taking in your scrunched face and the bags under your eyes. “Sweaty and warm, but not feverish. Smells like blood and arousal again, human.”

You growled at him when the Chamberlain attempted a riskier caress, skimming over your clothed chest, reading between lines so expertly you felt you had known him all your life, “I’m having cramps and it hurts. If I move, it’s bad too.”

Sensing no lie in your bitter words, the Chamberlain surprised you with a slow nuzzle to the back of your neck. “Human has to attend Emperor’s court,” he said matter-of-factly. 

You whimpered again, defeatedly, and soaked his affection like a sponge, not caring if he was faking it or not; you didn’t want to think about his words, knowing them true. Instead, you hobbled to the basin with warm water by one of the windows, wincing at the sunrays of the first of the Sisters, and drenched a hand towel in it, then wrung the water out and pressed the still wet fabric to your lower abdomen, not caring if your night robes got damp. The heat and pressure helped your cramps, and after a minute you could right your slumped posture, your muscles reluctantly uncoiling.

After your cleaning routine, the Chamberlain stopped you from changing into your daily robes, the blasted ointment vial in his hand. You sat on the mattress, groaning, and then you were offered a very warm hand towel, which you pressed against your body again, grateful, as he got to work with your scars. Still, surprised by his lack of words and his gentleness, you eyed the basin and discovered SkekSil had uncovered the portable stoves and placed the bowl directly on top of the flames, and the water was close to sizzling, the material darkened because of the contact with the flames –somebody else’s problem, no doubt–; no wonder with the towel was so warm… It felt heavenly.

“Human mustn’t be late to court”, was all the Chamberlain told you, his form hidden from your eyes by fabric as you changed into a formal attire for the day. By the time you looked again, he was gone, his annoying humming trailing behind him as he walked the hallways.

And on time you were, as advised, even though your humour had got even worse in the short hour and something you had been somewhat free from skeksis presence. After brooding a bit longer in self-pity, cursing mother nature and her whole extended family for not finding another way to let you know you weren’t with child, you had finally waddled to the kitchens, where a very angry Gourmand was waiting for you, seething and nearly blowing steam from his earholes. Apparently, he had been waiting for you to get your breakfast –you didn’t know why, as he had never done such a thing, and very obviously he hadn’t liked your presence before this day–, and he was very peeved you were late; SkekAyuk had yelled at you for a long minute and then thrown a bowl of green gunk in your general direction before stomping off to get his own meal with his kind, sniffing, huffing and puffing until he was too far to be heard. You had, very maturely, dumped the contents of your disgusting plate and fished for something to satisfy your sweet tooth, lamenting there was nothing akin to chocolate on Thra but making a speedy job of anything sugary withing range, filling you stomach in spite of the Gourmand’s fading shrieks. Perhaps because of them, even.

Despite your terrible mood, you had proceeded with the protocols to greet the Emperor, and then sat at his feet, his hand finding your hair to pet it with the ease of someone who had been doing the same thing for a month –the touch of his jewelled hand was now verging on comforting, and you no longer flinched at its weight. From your position, you could both smell the fruity perfumes the Chamberlain, standing at your right, favoured, and observe the whole throne room and its occupiers –you answered the Gourmand’s indignant glare with one stabbing sneer of your own, and he yelped and quickly averted his wide eyes away; by the time someone had noticed his blatant display of nervousness, you were already focused on the first of gelfling petitioners who had come to the castle, the perfect picture of peeved innocence.

As you sat on the floor, however, your cramps returned, the cold of the tiles doing you no favours, and your bountiful breakfast took its toll as your stomach tied itself in knots. You could feel your patience slowly disappearing with the passing hours, each gelfling visitor met with an impatient glare sharper than the previous speaker, and by the time the Lords were finally dismissed for the day you weren’t sure if you wanted to cry, to scream or to lay down under a blanket for a year.

However, as you rose to leave, the Emperor called for you, his deep rumbling voice full of mirth. “Your disrespect was hardly unnoticed today, human; SkekAyuk might be pusillanimous but he’s very capable of putting something nefarious in your meals. Nothing fatal, naturally, but he has shown a growing interest in you and your… cycles. Your death would be a gruesome inconvenience.”

You sniffed, brow furrowing at the thought of the Gourmand poisoning you –you knew his actions wouldn’t go unanswered, the Chamberlain would make sure of it, but the prospect of sickness wasn’t something that made you any happier. With a tilt of his head, the Emperor questioned your angered silence. “May I speak freely, my Lord?”

SkekSo’s lips curled in amusement at your indignant tone, the metal cover for his beak glinting maliciously. He rested his face on the palm of one hand, gesturing at you with his golden sceptre. “If you must.” 

“The Lord Gourmand was waiting for me in the kitchens this morning –something he has never done before,” you told him hesitantly, not knowing how much information was safe to let him have.

The Emperor nodded, his joviality visibly growing. “He was indeed late to our own meal; I was wondering what could have caused such an event… That heat of yours is a powerful call if it can command the will of those driven by caprices.” SkekSo openly laughed, shaking his head as if the occurrence was the funniest thing someone had told him. “I thought the Chamberlain’s claim on you would have sufficed to keep their avarice at bay, but it does one no harm to be wrong in matters such as these! Have you, by chance, been subjected to other oddities of this nature?”

While you were uncomfortable at how at home the Emperor seemed by these events, having him knowing you might be in danger sooner or later did bring you solace; if the Chamberlain were to make a public accusation against other skeksis, the Emperor would already have a solid ground to judge and decide, and would be less likely to be swayed by convincing arguments and well-placed words –there was no liar in the castle that could match SkekSil’s wit, but it was reassuring you could partake in your own revenge, even if in a small part.

You nodded, head still bowed respectfully. “Only this morning, my Lord. The Lord Gourmand insisted I ate something of his own making, he was very angry I was tardy to my own morning meal, according to his words.”

“You refused to eat something he cooked?” The Emperor’s laughter was deep and rich, and you were sure you would had been enchanted by it had his cackles not been at your expense.

“It was a… Its appearance was unpromising, my Lord,” you said as humbly and neutrally as you could.

The Emperor chortled so hard he bent over himself as he held his stomach, his loud roars echoing in the empty chamber. “ _Unpromising_ , is that right? I can only imagine what kind of mediocrity the Gourmand had tried to force in you. Ah!”

“Well, my Lord-”

Still chuckling so hard his whole body shook, the Emperor raised a hand to command your silence. “I’ve had enough. Begone, human, make something useful of yourself somewhere else. Off with you.”

You got to your feet with a silent groan, the cramps caused by your period still greedily clutching at your muscles and, with a final bow, left the throne room.

* * *

Heeding the Emperor’s warning, you had eaten and dined meals you had personally seen the podlings prepare for their Lords, swiftly stealing fruits so the amount of food they received was not too perceptibly reduced –at this point, you knew the Emperor would notice your misdeeds, but you decided to chance your luck as he had been favouring you as of late.

You had also made the most of your free time by thoroughly washing yourself, wasting as much warm water as you saw fit. The Chamberlain had the chance to conspicuously let you know the bathing chamber would be unused for the day if you wanted to risk taking a bath, and while his spontaneous sweetness hadn’t gone unnoticed, the thought of bathing while on your period made your inwardly recoil.

As clean as you managed to be and no matter how often you pressed warm towels to your abdomen –the basin the Chamberlain had placed over the stoves was still there when you arrived to the room, sighing gratefully as he seemed to show mercy on you when no skeksis was invited to his halls today for entertainment and gossip–, what you really craved was a fitful rest. You were just too tired, physically and mentally exhausted not only from your cramps but from the effort of being conscious a Lord skeksis now trying to poison you out of lust. You had never thought that sentence would be something your mind had to construct but there it was, mocking you.

Usual as of late, the Chamberlain arrived at his quarters as the last of the Sisters disappeared behind the horizon; the skeksis was singing to himself, in such a good mood you could swear there was a skip in his steps. He found you curled up under the blankets of his bed –the courtesy you usually kept about never using it without his permission gone down the drain when you were on your period–, a pillow nestled between your legs to bring yourself some comfort.

The Chamberlain shed the outer layers of his outfit almost carelessly, letting them fall on the floor in a wrinkled pile and then promptly joined you, sitting by your coiled body on the bed. He patted your covered legs a few times, his tail wiggling and whipping the floor, and then rested his hands where they were, bending over to get a closer look at your face.

“Emperor congratulated Chamberlain on his good work,” he said. “Saw how good human fares under my care, yes, he was very happy. Chamberlain is also happy, and he paid a visit to friend SkekTek. Human won’t believe how smart friend SkekTek is, he gave Chamberlain the _best_ of ideas!”

You made an effort to show interest in his excitement, his lips pulled by a smile so wide you could clearly see the sharp fangs in his mouth. “What did you learn, my Lord?”

SkekSil pulled the covers from your body, and while that soured your amusement, you didn’t stop him. Instead of following with another aggressive motion, the Chamberlain took your pillow and discarded it, and then stroked the skin of your arms your nightclothes didn’t hide, raking the tip of his claws lightly until he got goosebumps from you. “Human’s period-cycle that causes her pain… it’s a heat, in the end, yes? All creatures, from Thra or not, no matter how smart or stupid they are, they all have the same answer for such problem. They mate, they _fuck_ until heat is over. Chamberlain is going to do the same for human.”

You could have kicked him off the bed _so fucking easily_. By the overjoyed look in his green eyes, SkekSil knew this too, and his smile only widened when you both realised you wouldn’t do such a thing now that you were finally getting what you had wanted for so long. Teeth bared, you rolled on your back, longing to slap his smirk right out of his face. “I have literally begged you for a whole unum-!”

“Yes,” conceded the Chamberlain docilly, “human sweetly begged SkekSil, she did; very often, very eagerly. SkekSil had such a hard time saying no! It pained me greatly, hurt me so. But human was being punished, Chamberlain just had to.”

As the Chamberlain spoke, his voice thick with self-pity, the pads of his fingers skimmed over your clothed body, pushing at the and pulling at the sleeves and the neck wherever it had give to reveal more of your warm skin. You saw the lust building in his eyes as the caressed your neck and cupped your face, bending over to nuzzle your chest as he took deep breaths, inhaling your scent of blood and arousal and purring at it, shivering in delight.

“I can’t believe- Your punishment was unfair! I did nothing wrong and you know it!” Despite your harsh words and the anger in your voice you allowed him to continue the soft ministrations, gasping when he pinched and avidly embraced your torso, his strokes so strong and eager they left paths of white and red wherever they went.

“Chamberlain will make things fair now, please? Will make worth the wait, compensate and reward patience as promised. Will make human feel good. _Please_?” 

You knew what he was doing, you knew he didn’t care he had been unjust or that your punished was triggered by his jealousy and possessiveness, and the worst part was you were acutely aware you knew that too. The Chamberlain was sure he could get away with anything no matter how much he wronged and angered you if, in the end, you also got what you wanted. So far, he had been right, hadn’t he? Weren’t you exactly where he wanted you, beneath his body and panting in want?

“You will, how?” you asked, sceptical, arching to his touch when the Chamberlain evilly pressed his cold palms to your hardening nipples, cupping your breasts. “Ah!”

SkekSil abandoned his touches at the tone of your voice, evilly massaging your tits for a moment before planting his hands on the mattress to cage you. He straightened his arms, rising above you as much as he was able to, and parted his beak, giving you a show of his long, get tongue for a second before his cruel gesture tightened in a smirk. “Chamberlain will use his mouth, as human promised but never fulfilled.”

“Unfair again, it wasn’t for lack of trying.” You whimpered as he licked a strip of saliva up your neck, his fingers fiddling with the knots that held your nightclothes together. He could have easily bunched up the fabric, as it was nothing more than a glorified nightgown, but he chose not to, teasing whatever skin he could reach through the tight openings as you had done with him so long ago –you squirmed expectantly, your awareness fully awake when you realised how far he could go in his teasing if he decided to follow your steps.

As he had been that first time, you were reluctant to give him full control over your body and your reactions, and your hands rose to touch him, a brief contact he allowed only because that gave him room to slip one of the sleeves of your clothes off your arm, but then pushed them away, lowering his head to lap at the part of your chest that was revealed. When you tried again, this time innocently aiming at his shoulders for purchase, the Chamberlain grabbed your wrist and pressed it against the mattress; it was a restrictive hold, but not painful, tenacious enough so you understood you had to keep your hand there after his own was gone.

“No touching, no grabbing,” SkekSil tutted, and you could swear there was a growl in there. His fingers pinched your nipple, doing a fantastic job about not digging his claws in your flesh and just using his rough pads to stroke you; you whined, maybe at the searing touch, maybe at his lowered voice. “Chamberlain would hate to prolong human’s punishment, yes? Another unum of need if she doesn’t behave.”

You whimpered, nodding stiffly, and the Chamberlain let you rise up to meet his face, your hands firmly and visibly pressed to the feathery mattress and purred when you nibbled at his neck instead, holding the rough, hard skin softly between your teeth and tracing it with the tip of your tongue. There was disappointment in your actions, and maybe more than one of your playful bites was a bit too intense, but SkekSil found your tiny rebellion lovely and encouraging, and he said nothing about your attacks. Instead, the skeksis tilted his head, giving you more room to work at him, and you mistakenly took it as a small victory.

You nibbled at his jaw, feeling his pulse tremble under your lips, and asked him as pleasantly as you could, your voice low and silky and full of wanton frustration. “Give me permission, please.”

“Chamberlain can’t hear you like that, speak louder, yes?” the Chamberlain taunted you, but your stubborn mind said you had already relented enough, and you refused to answer his demands. SkekSil, as indulgent as he was being, honoured his infamous everchanging temper by pushing you away with the same ease he had allowed your closeness. “Human use her words if she wants something,” he insisted, looming over you, the distance between your faces so narrow you felt every puff of breath from his mouth. When you said nothing, he guided you down with a hand that spoke of finality until your back was once again flat to the bed, his eyes narrowed in burning challenge. “Remain silent and yield, if that is what you want.” 

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of either, just a curled smile meant to remind him of how he had never voiced his submission to you. The Chamberlain, his patience tested, climbed on the mattress and manoeuvred his smaller body between your thighs, pressed so close you moaned when his belly brushed your groin. His ego stroked by your wanton sounds, SkekSil experimented with a few thrusts, claws soaring up your body to tear at the rest of your nightclothes that clung to your chest; your breasts now uncovered, he rammed his pelvis to yours just to see them bounce, the push making you hold on the carved wood of the headboard for some stability.

“So much for using your mouth, my Lord,” you sassed, your breath hitching as you did your best to hold onto the sheets, your eyes roaming his bony figure; between your legs, firmly pressed against your crotch, you could clearly feel the shape and warmth from his cocks. One of the Chamberlain’s hands, which had found solid purchase on your hipbones, rose and grabbed greedily at your tit, maybe intending an admonition, but you covered it with your own and held it there, your chest heavy with desire.

“Impertinence shall be punished,” he hissed warningly, tightening his hold. As an answer to his threat, you parted your lips and moaned openly at his aggression, your gaze bursting with unbidden lust.

The Chamberlain took a deep breath, halting his movements, and sensed the change in the mood instantly, eyes hooding at your stubborn stare, and pulled at the fabric that still covered you until he managed –with a little bit of assistance from your raised hips– to throw it in a heap on the floor, left to be forgotten.

Between the two of you, you now had two different focuses; your eyes were affixed on the prominent bulge of his erections tenting his robes, his were on your makeshift, thick underwear. When his fingers were to claw at the garment, clearly with destruction in mind, you grunted at him.

“Do not ruin them,” you pleaded, “I need them.”

“Human never uses underclothes,” was the Chamberlain’s huffed answer, but let you get up, amused as you shimmied out of them. He also got a nice view of your ass when you bent down to pick a random blanket from the pile you used to sleep in, enticing a rumble from his chest that shook him to his core, the strong scent of blood and, most importantly, your arousal, flooding the room and making his head dizzy. “…what is blanket for? Plenty of pillows on the bed.”

You folded the plush fabric somewhat neatly, getting a fairly big square you landed your butt on as you laid down again, succeeding at both creating a surface that protected the mattress from your period and raised your hips for a more comfortable position to be fucked in. “I’m still- that’s what the, uh,” you cringed, “what the heat does. Humans bleed from their vaginas.”

The Chamberlain gave you a look that could have made you come right then and there, and then killed the mood by cackling loudly once he understood you were trying to keep the sheets for dirtying, a laughter that came deep from his belly and rattled his shoulders. “Silly, so silly! There won’t be nothing to stain the bed once Chamberlain is done with you.”

Despite shocks and chuckles still shaking his body, SkekSil leaned over and resumed his heated, kind of aggressive nuzzles, rubbing your scent on his own, coarser skin. His caresses came back full force, and while you were bitter his body was hidden from your sight or touch, it was all forgotten in lieu of his tongue doing as he had promised, mapping and slicking up your body with it, earning well-deserved moans, grunts and sighs as he found his way around all the spot that made you tick.

The Chamberlain himself let out a gasp full of delight, his tongue still busy lavishing a hard nipple, when his long fingers travelled south, over the mound of your pubis, and grazed your dripping cunt with his pads. “So wet for Chamberlain!”

In spite of how thoroughly SkekSil had engraved the no-touching rule in your brain, this threat to stop his ministrations too real and present, the feel of his sharp talons so close to your nethers was just as sobering, if not more pressing, and not in a fun, sexy way. “Careful with the claws,” you begged him, your own fingers circling his thinner wrist to still his movements.

SkekSil didn’t hold your hesitation against you, and bowed his head to nibble softly at the underside of your breasts, first one, then the other, his scolding, green eyes never leaving yours as his remaining hand travelled down and pressed against your puffy, wet lips.

“SkekSil knows what he’s doing,” he purred, oh, so smugly, and you didn’t want to know, you really didn’t want to know how the hell had the Chamberlain learnt to eat pussy with the voracity his eyes were promising you. He raised his fingers so you could see them and, as you had suspected, they were covered both in blood and your own slickness, and you witnessed, almost incredibly, how his long, unnatural tongue darted out and cleaned the digits with obvious gusto.

“Oh, fu-” you moaned, swallowing and licking your lips, your chest heavy with want, and your hands abandoned the sheets, desperate for something solid to hold onto, even if it was only his robes, as the Chamberlain urged his whole palm against your cunt, massaging it slowly, almost only with the movements of his wrist. His other hand left its clutch on your hip to curl around your bicep as you tried to hold him to you, craving closeness as much as you desired your release. The rhythm he had instilled was maddening, undulating and heavy, as little stimulating as he wanted to, the pressure both spurring you on and forcing your pelvis down whenever you tried to thrust up to speed things.

“Good, hmm?” he whispered smugly.

You sobbed, your jaw slack, your eyes tightly shut to take all the sensation in; you could have sworn your brain was going numb. “Please, Chamberlain!”

“Human lay still,” SkekSil commanded, his voice tantalizing and just as slow as his caresses, the tip of his beak resting on your sternum with how close you were pulling him to you. “Chamberlain hasn’t used his mouth yet, has he? Not as satisfactorily as he can, of course. Big things await, patience is rewarded.”

“Please,” you begged again, not even knowing what you were asking for, your body slick with sweat and trembling with desire, the aches from your cycle gone in favour for a blinding, searing want that left you desperate for whatever touch the Chamberlain was willing to give you.

Finally, finally he went down to the apex of your legs, his hands settled on your thighs to keep them open, to take a look at your most private part; caring little for shame, you mewled and thrusted your hips when his warm breath grazed your sensitive flesh, and the grip of his claws hardened like a vice to restrain your squirming, digging in the meat of your thighs with grounding discomfort, threatening to pierce through.

Suddenly, the Chamberlain got the stench of fear mixed with the scent of your arousal, and when he looked up your fingers were almost frozen in a painful dead grip on the sheets, and you laid as unwillingly still as he had asked.

SkekSil was reminded, then, about what your last experience with sex had been, and he remembered how the Ritual Master had earned your trust and then hurt you, and understood why now you were looking at him with such haunted eyes. On different occasions he himself had enjoyed those little bursts of fear from you, whenever he’d say something too sharply or with hidden intentions, when he toyed with the unease he knew you felt around other skeksis who openly showed how little it would bother them if you were to disappear.

Even now, as his sweet as his intentions truly were, SkekSil couldn’t help the delectated purr in his chest at your dread, but then he remembered himself; he could see your pulse racing in the veins of your neck, your throat tight as were tensed your muscles, your body ready to spring to action at the slightest sign of a threat.

You looked like a cornered animal.

The Chamberlain wouldn’t, couldn’t let you go now that he had you where he had wanted for so long, and he found the easiest way to reassure you was to repeat those affectionate motions you craved so dearly, the ones that got your muscles uncoiling and your voice mewling in shameless want. And thus he nuzzled his face to your thigh, his eyes never leaving yours, as he let the vibrations of his purr help relax you, turning his impulses for violence to his favour until you stopped looking like you were ready to fight for your life. 

Then, without warning, the Chamberlain dipped his tongue between your lower lips and greedily lapped at the slick covering your heated flesh, tasting the sting of blood mixed in it; you nearly screamed, hands shooting down to clutch hopelessly at the robes around his scrawny shoulders, your thighs spamming uncontrollably at the sides of his head. He was mindful of his fangs on your delicate pussy, which you were immensely grateful for, as he rose for another burning lock of gazes, the tip of his tongue circling your clit first slowly, then rapidly in the opposite direction, then laying flat and applying overwhelming pressure on it. With whatever brain you had left you stupidly wondered if maybe gelfling were constructed the same way as you were, and if maybe the Chamberlain had kept a harem of them as you knew the Ritual Master did, and-

You groaned, your voice nearly gone, and felt your throat sore at the harsh sounds you were letting out, incapable of forming words with how agitated your breathing had become, a mix of unarticulated gasps and pants and whimpers. SkekSil renewed his assault with great eagerness, eating you out like a thirsting man who’s finally offered a glass of water. You only knew you were begging, begging the Chamberlain for something as his claws kept you open and his tongue dove deep inside you, stroking and forcing your inner walls to relax as he massaged them, the pad of his thumb keeping a strong cadence as it massaged your clit, and if he was humming his whimpers were drowned by the loud, wet sounds he was dragging from you.

As it was obvious, while SkekSil was getting virtually no stimulation for himself other than the discreet thrust of his own hips as he grounded his cocks against the mattress, he was incredibly delighted to be where he was, his head buried between your thighs, the taste of your juices and blood on his tongue, your moans deafening his other senses. How good your hips felt pushing against his face, your soft body under his sharp claws, your muscles trembling under his palms with every brush of his tongue. He wouldn’t be the one to say it out loud, but your scent was to him like the call of a siren, his thoughts becoming fuzzy whenever your cycle approached… It was him the one you had submitted to, the one whose touch you craved like a plant craves for water, out of all the skeksis in the castle. SkekSil knew it impossible, as he was the one who made sure his rooms were as soundproof as possible –one needs silence to plan mischief–, but he longed for his brethren to hear your calls, his name hot on your tongue, your pleas so lovely and endearing and polite. A particular whine of extasy had him purring and forcing his tongue as deep as it would go inside your walls, curling intently in exploration for that sweet spot that would have you howling under his touch.

You clenched around his tongue as the Chamberlain sped his motions up, your head firmly forced against your pillows, your spine tight as you took all the sensations, and then openly sobbed when, as you finally approached your orgasm, he stopped moving altogether, as if someone had pressed a button that stilled his motions. Your head snapped up, your neck cracking, and you found yourself face to face with the most vivid personification of smugness to ever exist.

SkekSil hoovered over your chest, his hands holding you down and trapped as his beak, covered in your slickness, your blood and his own drool, dripped on your skin. “Look at Chamberlain, yes? I want to see human’s face when she finally comes.”

You were sure there were actual tears roaming down your cheeks as you whined at him. “Please, don’t _stop_ , please-!” You couldn’t play his game! You knew what he was capable of, you knew he was going to bring you to your peak, so close you could see it in front of you, within your reach, only to keep you another month from pleasure. You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t take another unum of constant frustration and anger and horniness, you needed release, whatever reason he had for punishing you like this again, it wasn’t _fair_ , you didn’t deserve it-

“So sweet,” the Chamberlain cooed, his green eyes hooded and clouded with lust, “such lovely pleading, such good begging. Chamberlain likes it very much when human begs, he does, yes. This is not punishment, SkekSil promised to reward you, didn’t he? I will, I will. Just wanted a closer look, wanted to see it better.”

Then his hands started a mind-blowing pace, two of his fingers finding their way inside your core and pumping your walls relentlessly as the thumb on your clit sped up without mercy; you used your hold on him to pull him even closer, chest to chest, your naked skin to his clothed torso, as the Chamberlain did with you as he pleased, playing you like a fiddle. Your hips were at last free to move, but you had abandoned yourself to his benevolence, and only had the strength left to cry out when he brushed the right spot inside you or his nibbling on your breasts was too aggressive.

The Chamberlain was panting for breath himself, his arms straining with effort as he pounded his fingers in your pussy, forcing the coil inside you to finally snap. He stroked your cunt as you rode your high, your hips trembling uncontrollably, eyes closed tightly and teeth gritted, tears streaming down and wetting your face. Then, your body grew lax, and SkekSil freed you from his bruising hold, letting you rest on the pillows.

It was at least a minute before you spoke, raising your arm to whip the sweat from your face; the effort seemed to be herculean, and instead you rested your forearm over your eyes, only leaving visible you stupid, sated smile. “Holy shit, I think I passed out for a moment…”

SkekSil couldn’t help himself, he laughed, long and rich and deep, and then pinched his eyes when he realised he just wouldn’t stop chuckling. “Promised reward met expectations, Chamberlain guesses?”

You giggled yourself and nodded meaningfully, silly from your high, and took a second to put your scattered brains together, your breathing still shaky; then you sat up and struggled to stand. “I can’t feel my legs, what the hell…”

SkekSil laughed again, and then followed the significant stare you were giving the basin with warm water and the hand towel; wordlessly, he rolled his eyes and fetched it for you, but he made no effort to help you clean yourself –despite it, you kissed his hand in appreciation for the gesture, and once you were settled, most of the sweat gone, and feeling more like yourself, you walked to the side room to find new underwear and clean rags to change into. Your cramps might had temporarily disappeared, but your cycle was still ongoing, and you didn’t feel like sleeping in a puddle of your own blood.

By the time you were out of the small room, the Chamberlain had shed the rest of his, now stained, clothing and whipped clean your juices from his hands, already awaiting in bed for you. You slipped under the covers and felt him immediately scoot close to you, his tail wrapping around your legs as he forced his way between your eyes. Unbothered by the strong smell of sex in the room, you both fell asleep.

Right before you passed out, you had a fleeting thought about his arousal, about how he had gone unsatisfied in favour for your own needs, but the next second you were sleep and the thought dissolved.

**Author's Note:**

> What did you guys think of it? Please, leave a comment and let me know! I love receiving your thoughts on my writing! 
> 
> (I did consider cutting this in two parts, but I wasn't sure about having a clear division between smut and plot because, in the end, what I'm trying to do with the plot is justify two characters fucking... so I thought I'd leave it as a whole unit. However, if you don't mind the division, do let me know too! I can't make up my mind!)


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